“People tell me I should become a dollar store,” said Joan Shanfield-Melnick, of the herculean task of liquidating her parents’ landmark store before Dec. 31. “Seven million dollars. It’s tempting.”

Shanfield-Melnick plans to close the doors at the end of the year. Her going-out-of-business licence with the city can be renewed four times, meaning she doesn’t really have to close until spring. But, she said, “it’s time.”

Responding to flyers delivered in the mail about the store’s final days, more than 400 customers crammed into the downtown store Sunday. About 75 were lined up on the sidewalk at Chatham and Ouellette before the store opened. Monday, business continued to be brisk, with settings of china dinnerware, crystal, silverware, jewelry and collectibles flying out the door. But with three floors full of merchandise — the main floor has items on display, but the attic and basement have stock in boxes packed to the ceilings — “it doesn’t make a dent,” Shanfield-Melnick said.

Selling pieces one or two at a time will take millions of customers. Shanfield-Melnick said she is hoping to sell off the stock in lots. “I want other retailers to come and buy me out.”

Selling the building, which has housed the business since 1949, will not be a problem, she said. “Everyone wants my building.” Actually seven stores connected by doorways and covering a quarter of a city block, the building will likely be razed by a developer.

But it needs to be emptied first.

There’s been no new stock ordered since Shanfield-Melnick took over three years ago following the death of her father, Jack. Even with deep-discount sales, she still has more than seven million pieces to unload.

And unloading she is. Place settings that sold for more than $200, she is selling for $65.

“Everything is negotiable,” she said.

Whereas her parents still used a hand-cranked cash register and did all the paperwork by hand, Shanfield-Melnick put the store’s inventory on a website—shanfields.net.

Her offerings compare to those of famous auction houses like Christie’s.

“This place is like a museum,” she said, waving her arms in front of a display case that holds large figurines her parents tried to sell for $15,000 each.

Some have occupied the same shelf since the 1940s.

“Things in this store, I don’t know what my father was thinking.”

Her dad would not only place orders with manufacturers like Lalique, Aynsley and Beleek, he would scour estate sales for stock. Some of the items were purchased at Shanfields, then sold back to the store by the original buyers’ heirs.

People don’t value the same things they did decades ago, Shanfield-Melnick said. Brides are older and more practical, she said. “Nobody wants china that lasts longer than the marriage,” she said.

The store used to be filled with wealthy Americans enjoying their high dollar. “Those days are gone,” Shanfield-Melnick said.

Some of the store’s employees have been there as long as some of the inventory.

Pat Goulin remembers walking into the store 32 years ago, and waiting in line with about a dozen other prospective employees to be interviewed for a job. Lina Shanfield, Shanfield-Melnick’s mom, would conduct the interviews in between waiting on customers.

“I think part of the interview was that if you had the patience to wait in line, you had the patience to work here.”

Customer Jane Boyd remembers walking into Shanfields as a young woman and signing up for her Wedgewood Ascot china pattern. She got five place settings as wedding gifts in 1968.

Forty years later, after her husband’s death, she was back, completing the set.

She’s been back several times since, buying some Beleek and gifts for her grandchildren. Monday, she found some Fitz and Floyd dishes to buy.

“This is an addiction,” she said, comparing her find with the more expensive Imari patterns.